


Waiting for the Monsoon

by BrimstoneAngel



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Mutual Pining, Political Marriage, Politics get in the way of Zuko and Sokka acting on their feelings, Post-Canon, Takes place over several years, Zuko is a theater nerd, yet another Fire Lord Zuko/Ambassador Sokka fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:29:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28637025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrimstoneAngel/pseuds/BrimstoneAngel
Summary: In the years following the war, Zuko and Sokka navigate their responsibilities to the slowly healing world. As they grow into adulthood along with the newborn, fragile peace between the nations, they wonder if there’s any way to build a world in which they can choose each other.
Relationships: Past Sokka/Suki (Avatar) - Relationship, Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

“Sokka, there was something I wanted to discuss with you.” 

Hakoda winces as he watches his son swallow the huge mouthful of sea prunes he had just put in his mouth. “Huh?”

“I’m thinking of establishing a permanent position of Southern Water Tribe ambassador,” Hakoda begins. “Now that things have settled, I don’t want to go to the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom in person every time there’s a political matter that needs our input. Our people need their chief here as they rebuild, and to be honest I’m weary of being away from home.”

Sokka nods his agreement. “It’s a good idea. The other nations all have their own ambassadors in each other’s courts. It’s about time we did the same. Then the Northern tribe won’t have any more excuses to try to speak for us, if nothing else.”

“Exactly. I’ve already corresponded with the Fire Nation about it. I think it makes sense to have the ambassador start there, since issues from the other nations usually end up passing through the Fire Nation court, and we don’t exactly have enough leaders to spare to have an ambassador in each nation, at least not at the start.

“As soon as I hear back from the fire nation, I’ll need to choose who will fill the role. I think it should be you.” Hakoda watches his son’s blue eyes widen as he takes the idea in and weighs it where not too many years ago he would have just reacted.

“I’m, um. I’m honored, Dad, but don’t you need me here? And you don’t think I’m too young to take such an important role? You don’t want the other nations thinking you don’t take this seriously.”

Hakoda smiles. Sokka has been home in the South Pole for most of the past four years, and yet Hakoda still finds himself surprised to see the man before him instead of that little boy in war paint he’d left behind to watch over his sister during the war. “You’re not much younger than the fire lord himself, need I remind you.” Sokka smiles fondly, the way he often does at the mention of one of his friends. “And that  _ is _ where I need you. You know the leaders of the other nations better than anyone else in the tribe, and you did an exemplary job negotiating the reconstruction funds with the Northern Water Tribe. The earth king trusts you and so does the fire lord, not to mention the avatar. You’ve travelled the world and you’re familiar with the customs of the other nations and the cities you’ll be working in. Not to mention the fact that you’re probably the most recognized and celebrated face in our entire tribe, much as I hate to admit it.” 

“Actually, I think that would be Katara, much as  _ I  _ hate to admit  _ that. _ ” Still, Sokka looks pleased.

“Regardless,” Hakoda continues. “You have all the right strengths and experience. I’ve appreciated all that you’ve accomplished here, but I know that helping the tribe recover and rebuild is the work of old men. I’ve seen my fill of the world, and so have all the older warriors. The work you’ll be doing will be to safeguard our future, and I can’t think of anyone more fit to do it than you.” Hakoda doesn’t bother trying to hide the wetness gathering in his eyes as he regards his son.

Sokka beams. Although Hakoda believes every word he just said, he has to admit that a bit of fatherly bias and concern had played its role in leading him to this particular selection. Hakoda has been happier than he could ever put into words to have his son by his side the last few years, especially after spending too much of Sokka’s childhood apart, especially with his other child away more often than not, especially when Sokka reminds him more of Kya with each passing season. But although he knows Sokka takes pride in his work here, Hakoda also realizes that so much time with grown, world-weary warriors and small children, away from his sister and his friends is taking its toll on his son. Sokka acts too old, too serious. He is a child of war, Hakoda knows, and children of war grow quickly, but Hakoda doesn’t like it, and he can’t help but wonder if being stuck in the South Pole isn’t making it worse.

Hakoda’s time fighting in the earth kingdom had only ever made him long for home, but it’s clear to see that his son is different. If it’s not obvious enough in the way Sokka’s face sometimes closes off when they read Katara’s letters or the way Sokka gazes after Hawkie’s flight over the sea with his replies to his sister or his other friends scattered across the world, Hakoda would have to be blind not to notice how much brighter and happier his son was on the few diplomatic missions they’d taken together, the easy way he held himself in each new city even as Hakoda and the rest of the tribespeople struggled to adjust. And of course, Hakoda can’t forget the way Sokka’s whole being seems lighter when he’s with his friends.

With the other tribesmen, Sokka is confident, strong, wise, and Hakoda couldn’t be prouder of the man he’s become. But with his old friends, Sokka laughs and teases and gets up to no good, and Hakoda remembers that his son is a boy still. Perhaps it is only because Hakoda has already missed so much of Sokka’s boyhood, or perhaps it is because Sokka truly does seem happier in those moments, but Hakoda wishes for his son to spend as much time as possible as that youthful, joyful version of himself before he grows all the way up.

And then, of course, there’s Zuko. Aang and Toph and Katara bring out a Sokka who laughs again, but Zuko brings out a Sokka who practically glows. And Hakoda can’t let himself forget that Zuko is a young man too, and one who has no one but an uncle on another continent to make sure he doesn’t grow up any faster than the world needs him too.

As strange as it was at first to see the young, scarred fire prince fight side by side with his son at the Boiling Rock, Hakoda had quickly grown to trust and then to care for the other boy. If Sokka had grown up too fast because of the war, it seemed that Zuko had barely had a childhood to speak of, and now the young man has far more responsibility than Hakoda’s son.

Hakoda is never quite sure if the two were merely best friends and brothers bonded by battle, or if they might one day be something more, but Hakoda will never forget the way Zuko had pulled Sokka out of the way to leap in front of his own sister’s flames, or the sight of Sokka reaching from the gondola to catch the other boy, who had not hesitated or even called out before he jumped into Sokka’s waiting grasp. 

Whatever the two young men were or could be to each other, it’s obvious to Hakoda that they were better off together than apart.

“So,” Hakoda asks. “We can spare a ship to take you to the Caldera as soon as next week.” Sokka fiddled with his stew, still quiet. “If you say no,” Hakoda warns, “I’m going to name Paaku as our ambassador, if only to get him out of my village, no matter what your Gran-Gran thinks.”

Sokka laughs out loud, and Hakoda joins him. “Well, as much as I’d hate to force you to keep Grandpa Paaku dearest around, I’ll do it. One condition though--” Sokka grins a mischievous smile that Hakoda doesn’t see enough anymore. “Don’t tell them it’s going to be me. I want to surprise Zuko.”

Hakoda grins. “Deal.” As Sokka leaves the tent, still grinning about his plan, Hakoda breathes a sigh of relief, knowing he made the right choice.

  
  


***

Sokka is always surprised at how warm it can get even on the open sea. This close to the fire nation, the air is practically shimmering with the humid heat of summer, although whether some of that is actually due to the volcanic activity under the waves, Sokka isn’t sure. At least summer is nearing its end, and he won’t have to stick out the hottest months in Zuko’s sweltering city. Even now, Sokka sees dark clouds converging on the horizon: he must have come north just in time to catch the monsoon.

_ Suki had kissed Sokka quickly enough that Sokka didn’t even have time to adjust his crutches to hold her before she broke away and rapped her knuckles on Zuko’s door. “We come bearing food!” Sokka had called out, and Katara’s voice came back telling them to enter. _

_ Katara had looked absolutely exhausted where she sat by Zuko’s bed, her head resting in her hands. “Thanks, guys,” she said with a smile. _

_ Zuko adjusted himself to sit a little higher against his headboard and gestured for them to set the basket of sweets and dumplings stuffed with vegetables and (thank all the spirits) meat on the bed. Sokka hobbled over and lowered himself down as well. The fire nation palace was too big and the hallways too long and he was still unused to walking with crutches. _

_ Zuko winced as the bed adjusted, but he smiled at Sokka anyway. “You know,” Zuko said to Katara. “I’m feeling a lot better. Maybe tomorrow you can leave me to rest and work on Sokka’s leg instead.” _

_ Katara lifted her head to glare at him. “Sokka’s leg will heal on its own. You still have time sensitive internal damage from Azula’s lightning, and if you doubt how serious wounds from lightning are just ask Aang. When I’m absolutely sure you’ve stabilized I will heal Sokka, but not before. I want to spend at least another day or two focusing on you first.” Katara shot Zuko one last glare, and then shot Sokka one for good measure before leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes. _

_ “I’m really fine,” Sokka assured Zuko. “And trust me from experience- you don’t want to argue with the healer.” _

_ Zuko still looked apologetic as he reached for a dumpling. Of all the things Zuko seemed to hold himself personally responsible for, Sokka thought, his stupid broken leg was one of the most ridiculous. And Sokka did not doubt that Katara was right about the extent of Zuko’s injuries; he’d seen the way his friend had leaned on Katara for support when they’d first seen them after returning with Ozai and how he’d sunk down to sit on the palace steps after addressing the city officials. And of course Sokka still remembered Katara’s despair waiting for Aang to wake from his twin injury. Sokka could wait his turn. _

_ “I think Toph and Aang are on their way too,” Suki told them. Katara lifted her head enough to smile and take a dumpling of her own. _

_ When the other two arrived, the laughter and jokes they brought with them were enough to almost make Sokka forget that they’d just fought a war and that what came next might be even harder. There was Toph bragging about how they took down the fleet, and Aang, sitting quietly and watching Katara slowly regain her smile as she ate, and so Sokka let himself remember how young they all were, and how proud he was of each of them. _

_ He sensed eyes on him and looked up at Zuko, and he knew they were both thinking the same thing, thrown back to those conversations they’d had around the fire in the weeks before, worrying over their younger companions with the dread of what the cost of ending the war might be drifting under their words like a tiger seal under the ice. _

_ Sokka set a hand on Zuko’s knee and squeezed. It was nothing short of a miracle that here they all were, with Toph’s grin and Aang’s peace and Katara’s determination all unbroken, with Suki’s hand in Sokka’s and Zuko’s soft smile as he watched it all. _

_ Although they all had their own chambers in the vast and empty fire palace, no one left as the night deepened. Sokka was relieved. He had barely slept the previous night, in all that silence. _

_ Toph curled up like a mousecat at the foot of Zuko’s bed, and Aang and Katara lay side by side on the rug in front of the fireplace, their fingers only an inch away from brushing together. Sokka briefly wondered if he ought to feel protective over one or the other of them before shrugging it off.  _

_ “Mind if I claim the settee?” Suki asked Zuko.  _

_ “It’s all yours,” he replied, shifting a bit lower on his pillows. Suki kissed Sokka’s cheek as she stood up from the bed. “I’ll save you some room,” she whispered in his ear, and he grinned, giving her hand a brief squeeze before she crossed the room and lowered herself down on the silk cushions. _

_ “Only two left,” Sokka whispered to Zuko, gesturing to the basket of sweets. “You want one?” _

_ Zuko shook his head. “You can have them.” Sokka gladly stuffed one into his mouth. “What’s in this again?” _

_ “Red bean paste,” Zuko told him. _

_ “It’s good,” Sokka said around his mouthful, and Zuko chuckled. It was good to see him smile. With the war ended, Zuko would have the hardest fight to come of any of them. _

_ As Sokka polished off the last sweet, the telltale patter of rain began against the window. _

_ Zuko’s head rose like a polar dog scenting prey. “The monsoon,” he said softly. “Summer is ending.” _

_ Zuko shifted to get out of his bed, but Sokka threw out a hand to stop him. “Where do you think you’re going?”  _

_ Zuko looked down sheepishly. “I wanted to open the window. My mother… she told us it was good luck to smell the first rain of the monsoon season.” _

_ “Okay.” Sokka pulled his crutches under him and moved as quietly as he could over to the windows to push one open, inhaling deeply as he did. The air was cooler and fresher than he’d ever felt it in the Fire Nation. _

_ Zuko lay back against his pillows, his eyes shut as he breathed. Sokka thought he was sleeping for a moment until he opened his eyes and smiled. The tiredness and the grief were still there in the corner of his good eye and the set of his shoulders, but he grinned up at Sokka as he breathed in the end of the summer.  _

_ *** _

_ As weary as Zuko was, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to sleep. He’d been in bed all day, for one, and he felt so restless. And he didn’t want to miss the rain: it was the first monsoon he’d been in the fire nation for since his banishment. And then there were his friends, gathered around him. Strange that for all the many nights he spent in this room, alone, and then in his cabin on his ship, he’d gotten so used to the sounds of breathing around him in the past weeks spent with his friends. Even on Ember Island, they’d all prefered to spend their nights together in the front parlor on blankets and cushions dragged down from the farther corners of that dark, drafty, lonely house. Zuko had picked up the habit, and now he wondered how soon he’d have to break it again. He knew they couldn’t stay here forever. He knew he’d soon be alone again. _

_ Sokka left the window and hobbled back on his crutches to lower himself gingerly into Katara’s chair by the bed.  _

_ “So, Zuko. I never properly thanked you for saving my sister.” His blue, blue eyes were serious. _

_ “She saved me too,” Zuko pointed out.  _

_ “Yeah. I guess we all saved each other.” Outside, the rain pounded harder, and Zuko thought of his mother taking him and Azula out to the covered walkway in the courtyard to watch it when they were young. How she’d always held out her hands to catch the drops, and looked at the turtle ducks playing in the downpour as though she wanted to join them. _

_ “You need anything, man?” Sokka asked, softly. “I think I’m gonna turn in.” _

_ “I’m all right,” said Zuko. “I guess I should sleep too.” Still, he found himself watching Sokka lay down on the settee with Suki, and the way her arms curled around him and pulled him close, and he felt some tiny ember of warmth come to life inside him, although he couldn’t quite put a name to it.  _

Zuko stands on the covered walkway and watches the turtle ducks in the first rain of the end of the summer, even though he still has preparations to finish for the arrival of the Southern Water Tribe ambassador. He’d never thought of his mother as lonely, but now he wonders if the quiet roar of the rainfall brought out the same melancholy, nameless longing in her. For a moment, Zuko thinks he can remember the feeling of her standing behind him, holding him against her as they watched the downpour together all those years ago. But when he opens his eyes, Zuko is alone.

***

Toph pulls at the stupidly scratchy sleeve of her ceremonial earth kingdom dress, and huffs out a sigh of boredom. Zuko isn’t even close enough to hear her, but she hopes he can sense the irritation that is most definitely directed at him. 

Toph is pretty certain she can remember explicitly telling him that she did not want to participate in any of this official ceremonial garbage while she was staying at the Fire Nation capital, and Zuko had mostly kept to his word. However, it turned out that Zuko seems to think that parading out his foreign allies, especially one as famous and well-liked as Toph, will give him extra points in the eyes of all the envoys and diplomats who are still hesitant to trust the Fire Nation’s international good will. Plus it helps that Toph can give Zuko a sense for how trustworthy and open to the new fire lord each new arrival seems. Which would all be fine, Toph supposes, if it weren’t for all the stupid costumes and the boring ceremonial speeches and the waiting around and getting introduced to a thousand stuffy nobles whose names she usually doesn’t even bother to listen to the first time, much less remember.

Toph tunes out whatever speechifying Zuko and his advisors are doing to prepare the court for the arrival of the new Southern Water Tribe ambassador and instead tests herself to see how many rooms away from the entrance hall she can stretch her senses. She’s trying to figure out if it’s Suki or a different Kyoshi warrior standing guard in the hall next to Ty Lee’s unmistakeable bouncy, light-footed presence when the Water Tribe contingent  _ finally _ arrives. 

The more she gets to know court politics, the more appreciation Toph has for the Southern Water Tribe’s down-to-earth sensibilities. Unlike the other welcoming parties she has been forced to attend, this time there are only two guards with the ambassador and no one is being carried in a palanquin. The ambassador who follows the burly guards though the entrance is actually walking on his own two feet and---

Toph abruptly takes off towards the new ambassador, not caring whatsoever that the guards have both tightened their grips on their spears. “Sokka!” she cries, and thankfully he steps past his overeager guards and embraces her in a tight, warm hug.

“Zuko didn’t tell me the new ambassador was  _ you!” _ she tells him, frustrated to find that as much height as she has gained in the past year, she still doesn’t come up past his shoulder. 

Belatedly, she realizes that the fabric around his head brushing the side of her cheek is probably a hood, and Zuko probably hadn’t told her because he hadn’t known, and she had probably just ruined Sokka’s idea of a fun surprise. Sokka’s loud laugh rumbles through his body as he pushes her back by her shoulders. “Catgator’s out of the bag, I guess,” he says. “If I’d known you were gonna be here I guess I would have had to put more thought into my disguise.”

“You should have had your attendants carry you in a palanquin,” Toph suggests.

Sokka reaches up and pulls his hood down from around his head, still laughing. At least he doesn’t seem too disappointed that his joke didn’t get the punchline he planned. Toph shifts her feet and feels back towards Zuko. His heart is beating fast and he hasn’t even stepped forward yet. Toph lets go of Sokka’s arm and steps out of his way. “Go ahead,” she tells him softly, noting that his heart too has picked up its pace.

Sokka takes a step towards the fire lord, and Zuko finally snaps out of his surprise to walk briskly to his friend, stopping just a pace in front of him. “Your father didn’t say…” he says dumbly.

Sokka laughs loudly and steps forward to pull Zuko into a hug. “I told him not to. I wanted to surprise you. I guess it worked.”

From the rest of the Fire Nation contingent, Mai steps forward. “Sokka. It’s good to see you,” she says in her scratchy voice. Some kind of tension overtakes Zuko’s frame, although Sokka doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss and gives Mai a quick hug as well.

“Aren’t you supposed to make some kind of fancy speech at me now?” Sokka asks Zuko.

“Right,” Zuko says, stepping back up onto the ceremonial dias. And just like that, he’s the fire lord again.

Toph shifts back into her place in the crowd of courtiers and ambassadors to listen to the ceremony. She isn’t quite certain what’s going on with her two friends, but it’s lining up to be quite entertaining.

***

Zuko catches Mai in the hallway after leaving Sokka to unpack with a promise that he’ll come and walk him to the banquet when it’s time.  Mai turns when he calls her name and regards him shrewdly.

“So,” Zuko begins, wishing he could have any other conversation. “About what we were discussing the other day. Um. Everything you said was right and perfectly reasonable, but I guess I’m just not ready to make a decision yet.”

Mai rolled her eyes. “I wonder what made you change your mind?” she asked, but there’s no bite to her sarcasm. “I get it, Zuko. Honestly, I’m not ready either. But the council isn’t going to back down about this. The line of succession is too important for the nation’s long term stability. You’re going to have to decide, sooner or later.”

“I know,” Zuko sighs, wishing so selfishly that anyone else in the world could be the fire lord but him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This fic is planned to be about 35k words by the end, and I'll try to update at least once a week.
> 
> Comments and kudos are of course appreciated, and I would love any constructive criticism or suggestions as I'm trying to improve my writing..
> 
> I didn't think any trigger warning/content warnings were needed for this chapter, but if they are needed in the future I will put them here in the end notes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Sokka see a play.

It takes Zuko a moment to identify what exactly Sokka is brandishing at him, still focused as he is on the long report he’s reading about the state of affairs in the former fire nation colonies. Sokka shoves the slips of paper closer to his face.

“Tickets?” Zuko asks.

“That’s right! Two tickets to _A Summer Solstice Reverie_ **,** for Wang Fire and his friend Nezha Ember.”

“Who?”

“You and me!” Sokka says, exasperated. “Come on. You said you’d show me around the city but I’ve barely left the palace since I got here. And you need a break.”

“I do not need a break. I’m fine.” Zuko pushes the report aside, resigned to the fact that he’s not gonna get any more work done tonight.

“Fine, whatever.  _ I _ need a break. So come take one with me. I already bought the tickets.” Sokka waves around the brightly colored papers in his hand. “Don’t you want to get out of the palace?”

Zuko knows he should say no, but something in Sokka’s smile stops him. It’s far too easy for Sokka to get his way. Too often over the past two weeks, Zuko has let Sokka drag him down to the courtyard to practice “swordbending” with Toph heckling them indiscriminately from the sidelines or keep him up too late at night drinking plum wine by the turtleduck pond. Zuko knows that he has been less productive in the last couple weeks, and he would wonder if it was a mistake for Sokka to come to the palace if he wasn’t so immeasurably glad to have him here. “Fine,” Zuko says. “Why the fake names?”

Sokka whips out something hairy from his satchel and holds it up to his face. “Because if we go as Wang and Nezha, visiting noblemen from Shuhon Island, we don’t have to bring any guards or worry about assassination attempts against you or screaming crowds of admirers for me. It’s the perfect plan.” His grin is barely visible behind his atrocious false beard, but the way his eyes crinkle at the corners is still enough to make Zuko’s protests evaporate in his throat. Besides, it has been ages since Zuko has been to the theater.

***

_ The sun had been too hot and the smell of fish had hung in the air of Ember Island’s marketplace and the bag of purchases (mostly Sokka’s) was digging into his shoulder, but still, Zuko had had to admit that he was glad to be there. When Iroh had first suggested he go to Ember Island for the summer, Zuko had refused. It had been less than two years since he’d taken the throne and he still had so much to do. But when Iroh had gone behind his back and invited Toph, Aang, Katara, and Sokka and gotten an enthusiastic confirmation from each one of them, Zuko had given in.  _

_ Iroh had remained at the palace and made good on his promise to send Zuko frequent updates, although from the lack of any bad news in his letters Zuko had to assume he wasn’t being completely forthright. But right then, listening to Toph and Sokka bicker over Sokka’s spending habits as they made their way back to the small beachside cottage that had replaced Ozai’s old manor as the royal summer home, where Aang and Katara would be waiting, Zuko could barely trouble himself to worry about how things were getting on back in Caldera City. _

_ “I think that shop girl back there had major hots for Sparky,” Toph said casually, as they stopped in the shade of an awning to drink fresh-pressed sugarcane juice from one of the carts that lined the sandy boardwalk. _

_ Zuko scoffed. “I doubt it. What, you felt her heart get excited or whatever? She probably recognized me. I’m famous, remember?” _

_ Toph twisted her mouth into a pout. “Trust me,” she told them. “My feet know a crush when they feel it. And you're pretty aren’t you? Sokka, he’s pretty right?” _

_ Sokka spluttered, and Toph smirked. “I’m sure you are,” she continued. “Let me guess: shiny perfect hair, deep golden eyes, that air of broody seriousness and that cute mysterious little scar just to add to the allure.” Toph mimed slashing a cut across her cheek with her finger. _

_ Zuko stiffened, and he could feel Sokka fidgeting awkwardly beside him. “Toph,” Zuko said. “It’s not…” _

_ “What, did I put it on the wrong side?” Toph asked. _

_ “It’s not a cut,” Zuko told her plainly. “It’s a burn scar.” _

_ “Oh.”  _

_ Before he could think too hard about it, Zuko took Toph’s hand and pulled it up to his face. She spread her small hand over his puckered, twisted skin and ran her fingers over the margins of the scar, from his missing eyebrow to his deformed, melted ear. _

_ “How-” Toph began once she’d let her hand fall, but for once she didn’t say what was on her mind. _

_ Zuko answered anyway. “My father.” Sokka inhaled sharply, and Zuko did his best to ignore him and plow on. “I spoke out of turn in front of his generals, and to teach me respect he had me duel him, in an Agni Kai. I didn’t fight back. He… And then he banished me, and told me not to come back until I had captured the Avatar.” Zuko finished, forcing himself not to look away from his friends. _

_ “You said you left the Fire Nation when you were thirteen,” Sokka said, very quietly. _

_ “Yeah.” _

_ Sokka reached out a hand and set it on Zuko’s shoulder, and Zuko surprised himself by not pulling away.  _

_ “Why in the name of all the Spirits did we let Aang leave him alive?” Toph muttered. ““I’ll kill him myself. Just say the word.” _

_ “I’ll help,” Sokka offered, squeezing Zuko’s shoulder tighter. _

_ Zuko forced himself to chuckle. “I think rotting in prison without his bending is exactly what he deserves. What’s done is done.” _

_ “Anyway,” Toph said, after a moment of tense silence. “I stand by what I said.” _

_ “What?” Zuko had lost track of the conversation, distracted by his discomfort and by the warmth of Sokka’s hand, still resting on his shoulder. _

_ “I still bet you’re pretty,” Toph clarified. “And that shop girl definitely had a crush on you.” _

_ Grateful for the change of subject, Zuko chuckled. Sokka shoved him gently, then pulled him into a one armed hug. “Come on, pretty boy,” he said. “Let’s head back to the house and cook up this Squidshark.” Sokka left his arm around Zuko’s shoulder as they continued down the boardwalk, and seemed not to mind the way they jostled together as they walked or the added warmth of another body so close to him even in the afternoon heat. _

_ The moment Sokka had stepped onto the dock at Ember Island and pulled Zuko into a bear hug, something had been different. Sokka had grown taller and broader since Zuko had last seen him, and his laughs were even brighter and more frequent without the shadow of war. And now Zuko found he couldn’t keep his eyes or his mind off of his friend. He had to remind himself not to let his gaze fix on Sokka laughing every time one of the others made a joke, and each time their eyes did meet it was like a shock of lightning that he didn’t know how to redirect: it struck him straight to his core, every time. Now, with Sokka’s arm draped around him, Zuko could barely focus on walking and his mind kept having to remind his hand not to wrap itself around Sokka’s waist and pull him closer. Zuko hoped the sun and the still heat of the day would make for a good enough excuse for the way he knew his face was burning, and that the awkwardness of the previous conversation would be a good enough explanation for any changes in his heartbeat that Toph might pick up on. _

_ Zuko knew what this was, if he was honest with himself. He’d known for some time now that he liked men, even if he had never let himself admit it to anyone else. And now, with Mai and him “taking a break” from each other as their relationship drew to its inevitable end, of course he would end up forming some kind of desperate crush on the only male friend his own age that he’d ever really had. Zuko just had to let it play itself out and keep himself from doing anything that would make Sokka uncomfortable or put a strain on their friendship. _

_ Sokka took his arm back to jog towards a signpost covered in tattered flyers and advertisements, and Zuko could breathe again. “Check this out!” Sokka called back. “The Ember Island Players have a new play! “ _ The Blue Spirit!” _ We  _ have _ to go to this.” _

_ Zuko groaned.  _

_ Toph cackled. “Yes! What does it say, Sokka?” _

_ Sokka tore down a flyer and brought it over to the other two. “ _ The Ember Island Players present  _ The Blue Spirit _ ,” _ he read. “ _ An exciting and moving story of the mysterious Blue Spirit, and his love affair with the beautiful _ \--” Sokka broke into laughter. “ _ The beautiful…”  _ he tried again, but he seemed unable to get another word out as his laughter got louder and more obnoxious. _

_ “What?” Toph asked. “Zuko, read it to me!” _

_ Zuko sighed, and took the flyer out of Sokka’s hand, which was shaking with mirth. “ _ Bla bla bla love affair with the beautiful Painted Lady.  _ Why is that so funny?” he demanded, but now Toph was apparently in on the joke and was giggling in between miming throwing up, which only made Sokka laugh harder. _

_ “Katara...” Sokka spit out, but was unable to finish his thought as a fresh peal of laughter rolled through him. _

_ “Whatever,” Zuko huffed. “I don’t even want to know. We are definitely not going to see another Ember Island Players performance. One day, I’m going to make you watch some real theater.” _

***

Now, Sokka can see why Zuko has always been so adamant that the Ember Island Players did not represent the best theater the Fire Nation has to offer. This play is something entirely different. Sokka finds himself actually enjoying it, and he’s pretty sure it’s not just the lack of, well, himself and his friends being portrayed that makes it so easy to immerse himself in the story. The play meanders through a forest full of spirits and strange magic, and Sokka finds himself captivated by the language that manages to be poetic while still funny and entertaining in a way that reminds Sokka of the warm night in Ba Sing Se when he’d stumbled into the poetry school. The acting is nowhere near as overwrought as the Ember Island Players' had been, and despite the fact that the lines they deliver are too well crafted to be real speech, the characters still seem almost like real people.

When the actors portraying spirits begin dancing on the stage, whirling in their flowing silk costumes through the dizzying choreography while the mortals sleep, it’s actually not dissimilar to the storytelling dances of his own people and for a moment Sokka forgets that he isn’t back in the South Pole with the rhythm of drums reverberating through him.

But the best part, Sokka has to admit, is the way Zuko’s eyes haven’t left the stage once since the players came out. Each time Sokka glances over at him to share a laugh or watch his reaction to a twist in the plot, Zuko seems completely enthralled. For the first time since Sokka arrived, his friend isn’t rushing off to a meeting or splitting his attention with the stack of reports and missives on his desk that never seems to shrink, and Sokka thinks he would spend every night of the rest of his time in the Fire Nation sitting here in a dark theater with the fake beard making his face so itchy that he'd had to take it off after the first act and the stupid pointed Fire Nation slippers he’d borrowed from Zuko pinching his toes if it means he can hear his friend chuckle at thinly veiled ribald jokes and with his shoulders loose and relaxed as he leans forward to get a better look at the stage.

The play ends after a poetic monologue from one of the spirits that Sokka doesn’t quite understand, and Zuko stands to applaud enthusiastically. Sokka joins him when he sees that the rest of the audience is doing the same. When Sokka looks over at his friend, Zuko’s eyes are gleaming in the lamplight and his smile is bigger than Sokka ever sees it, and he thinks for a moment that it would be so easy to lean over and still Zuko’s hands in his own and kiss his smiling lips.

It would be easy. So easy. But before Sokka can even identify where that thought had come from and what it could possibly mean, he remembers the way his heart had ached when Suki had told him she was leaving and the sadness in her eyes as she’d told him she would always be his friend, and he remembers the feeling of Yue’s palm fading against his cheek as she disappeared, and he remembers that Zuko is the fire lord and Sokka’s duty is still to the South Pole, and so Sokka turns back to the stage and claps hard enough to drown out any thoughts of Zuko’s bright smile next to him.

_ *** _

“So, what’s the best Caldera City street food that visiting noble Wang Fire absolutely  _ has _ to try?”

“I don’t really know,” Zuko admits. “I don’t eat a lot of street food. This whole disguise thing is a lot of effort for some fire flakes.”

“Oh yeah,” Sokka says. “Then I guess we’ll just have to let our noses guide us.” And then Sokka reaches towards Zuko’s face and adjusts his hair so that it hangs over his left eye to better obscure his scar. Zuko scowls, and hopes it’s enough to cover up the blush that he knows is creeping up his face.

“Don’t want to get recognized, right?” Sokka reminds him, pulling his hand back quickly. Zuko rolls his eyes and silently resolves not to let himself brush his hair back again in the hopes that Sokka will fix it and his fingers will brush his face again.

“So,” Sokka asks as they follow the less well-dressed members of the crowd out of the theater and towards the smell of frying things. “That was some of this actually good traditional Fire Nation theater that you’ve been telling me about?”

“Actually,” Zuko says, “it kind of wasn’t. It was different then what I’ve seen before. The dancing, for one: that’s not traditional. Or maybe it is, I guess, but definitely not since Sozin, obviously. And I’ve seen this play before. Tt’s not usually performed like that. It was so, I don’t know, informal. Like the actors were playing with it, trying new things. They didn’t stick to the meter the way they normally do, and they were delivering the lines more like they were having an actual conversation. I’ve never seen theater done quite that way before.”

“Really? So it was weird?”

“In a good way, I think,” Zuko smiles. “It was creative.”

“That’s awesome, man!” Sokka says. “Since you know, it’s because of you! You’re the one who legalized dancing in public spaces, and I guarantee you being all radical and new and different is inspiring everyone else to ditch tradition and try something new!”

Zuko looks away to hide his smile at Sokka’s praise. “It’s not like I directed it,” he mumbles.

Sokka elbows him. “You know I’m right. Hey-- that looks good!” Sokka gestures to a hole in the wall selling some kind of fried batter balls that smelled of seafood and spices and onion. Sokka orders a folded paper boat full of them, but hesitates right before popping one into his mouth. “You try it first, and tell me if it’s too spicy.”

Zuko laughs, and tries to make himself find Sokka’s spice intolerance ridiculous instead of endearing. It doesn’t work. “It’s just ginger-y,” Zuko tells him after taking a bite. It’s delicious, too, and unlike anything they serve in the palace. Maybe someone on his kitchen staff will know the recipe.

Sokka shoves an entire ball into his mouth and grins around it, his cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk-rat. Zuko rolls his eyes and takes another bite of his.

“Did you notice how the changes in the spirit queen’s costume reflected her changing relationship with the spirit lord?” Zuko asks as they continue down the street in search of something to drink.

“No, I did not,” Sokka says.

“At the beginning,” Zuko explains, “she was wearing traditional mourning dress. At least, the cut of the dress was like a widow's funeral dress: but the colors were brighter. Like she’s trying to disguise her sadness. And then, when she’s with her new consort, the costume is like a strange mix of mourning colors and wedding colors. I think it was meant to be jarring or confusing. And that’s another thing that they did differently-- if you just read the script and in the version of the play I saw before, the spirit lord is the one who tricks the queen and she’s completely unaware that she’s being made a fool of. But the way they did it, with the spirit queen waking up while the spirit lord is still there but pretending to sleep until leaves her with the spirit-touched peasant-- it’s like she knew what he was trying to do and just went along with it because she knew it would just make him jealous in the end. In the play as it’s written, the queen doesn’t have that much agency.” 

Sokka is looking at Zuko with a smile that’s somewhere between mocking and fond.

“What?” Zuko asks defensively.

“I always knew you were a nerd, but I didn't realize you were this much of a nerd.”

“I’m not--” Zuko starts, but Sokka shoves a fried ball into his mouth before Zuko can finish his sentence and laughs as Zuko chokes it down and glares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments appreciated <3 
> 
> The play they went to see was (probably pretty obviously) based on A Midsummer Night's Dream. The flashback takes place about 2 year before the present.
> 
> Most of this chapter is from Zuko's point of view, but the next chapter should focus on Sokka more.


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